They call him El Guapo. The Brave. Rich Garces, number 34, relief pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, does not get all the glory that players like Pedro Martinez do. He is not of Sammy Sosa’s stature or Cal Ripken’s legend. El Guapo, as they call him, just plays. He saves games. He gives it his best. Garces is listed on the official team roster as 6' tall and 215 pounds. He is a big man, with a barrel chest and huge upper body. He is not trim. The fans like him because he is personable, great to watch, and gets the job done.

Last month Garces was on the mound at Fenway Park in Boston when a line drive was drilled past his head. El Guapo leapt in the air and landed, spry as a cat, there at the center of the diamond. What happened next is interesting.
Sean McDonough, commentator for the Sox, began making jokes. They should call over to the Westwood, MA, seismology lab, see what that registered. McDonough quipped that the landing must have registered “about a 1.2" on the richter scale. His side kick, Jerry Remy, a former player in Boston, had little to say in response. For nearly 15 minutes McDonough continued to joke and comment.

Ironically both commentators had made a very large deal of another player using profanity the night before. When relief pitcher Derek Lowe referred to new coach Joe Kerrigan in an unsavory manner both men were disgusted by behavior they deemed “inappropriate” and bad for baseball. What is interesting about the contrast is this: Lowe used an obscenity in reference to his coach in front of the press. Some of the press may have chosen to print it. Some fans may have chosen to read it. But McDonough, who found his behavior so unacceptable, made his crass and unkind comments about Rich Garces live, on the air, at a ballpark that was sold out. Kids were watching. Everyone who follows the team heard it, whether they wanted to or not.

Why was it “okay” for Garces to be maligned simply for his body shape? If a broadcaster had made a comment about his race or religion there would have been outrage. And when Nomar Garciaparra, star shortstop for the team, makes wild leaps to grab balls out of thin air, Mr.McDonough cheers, shouts, exclaims at his athleticism. But Nomar is slender. Nomar is graceful. Nomar’s not fat.

Size prejudice in sports is not new. Years ago when golfer John Daly first appeared on the PGA tour comments were made often about his “pudginess.” His temper was considered eccentric, his unusual look “cutting edge,” but his body shape was considered a problem. There have been quiet scandals in other sports: anorexia in olympic gymnastics, steroids in track, football, wrestling. Body shape, body image, body perception is a sports issue.

It shouldn’t be. The only issue should be performance. And in baseball, that last bastion of Americana and apple pie, there are young fans to consider. Sean McDonough acted like a third grade playground bully from the broadcast booth at Fenway Park last month. He maligned a player for his shape. He made immature jokes. He made baseball look bad. And he did it live, on the air, in front of a sold out crowd full of kids. Every day young people who are overweight are taunted and tormented on school yards across this country. And every day young boys and girls in New England with stars in their eyes buy baseball cards, tune in to watch their favorite team, and believe in a game that has been played at Fenway for 100 years. It is a crime that young fans heard these comments.

The Fenway Faithful will continue to tune in Sean McDonough and his partner, Jerry Remy. But just as a player can not erase a slump from their statistics, McDonough’s comments have been logged, filed, and will always be a mark on his record as a broadcaster. He failed. He dropped the ball. He made ugly comments that had no place in the coverage of a game.

One last note: El Guapo caught the ball. He made the play. And that is the only thing that SHOULD have mattered.